Saturday afternoon I was working and found myself craving peanut M&M’s. My director keeps some in his office and sometimes when I have these little cravings I suddenly “remember a question that I have” and make my way in there. Once inside, I ask my question and then give my best “ohhhhh, forgot those were in here and they look to die for right now” look and then grab a handful of sin. So I grabbed the goods and we started chatting. I sat down in the chair opposite him and while I was in the middle of gushing to him about my recent boot purchase (best find EV) he interrupted me and said, “Oh my god, Brittany, look oustide my office”. I turned and there, right in front of our eyes, was a grey mouse. We watched him walk out of someone’s cube and then his body just hit the ground. He rolled onto his back and then his legs started twitching, I yelled, “What is going on?! Is he in pain!? What is happening?!” and then he was still…one more body twitch and then still again. We sat there in silence for about 26 seconds and then looked each other dead in the eye and both said, “Is he dead?”. I got out of my seat and walked over to get a better look. My director yelled, “What are you doing!? You can’t get so close!!” (I quickly found out that my director, who is a 30 year old, 6’4, male is afraid of mice). I squatted down and peered at the mouse for about 8 seconds and realized he was dead. Gone. The angel of darkness had entered our office and in front of our eyes we watched, experienced, and swallowed death. We later found that the cause of the death was poison. Damn, another one bites the dust. Later on that day the experience had me thinking of my own death. I have always invisioned myself to have a very dramatic funeral on a cool, November day. When I was ten I wrote down very specific instructions for my funeral and kept them in a box (along with a picture of Kate Moss with red lips pursed around a cigarette and my fav pic of Harrison Ford). I wrote that I wanted all the men to wear sunglasses and all the women in black veils. Everyone had to be head to toe in black. I wanted black and white photographs to be taken and I requested it be a cold, dark, rainy day (thanks God!). I also had a list of songs that I wanted to be played and the two that I remember are Joe Cocker, “You are so beautiful” and Whitney Houston, “I will always love you”. My mother said that my funeral seemed little vain (clearly she didn’t get how to leave this world with true grace and style). While I may not be Princess Di, I can assure you, I never leave a party without making a good exit.